Golden Corral

6110 S Lindbergh Blvd
St Louis, MO

 

Angel was hungry. She’d recently had a disappointing chicken meal at a McDonalds and was furious that her taste buds have become more refined over the last two years, since we started this quest. It used to be she’d just order something at McDonalds, eat it and not think much about it. No more. Now she actually tastes the slop and finds it wanting. It was Adam’s week to choose, Angel had hinted (which is allowed) Golden Corral, he went with it. So at the appointed time we saddled up (get it? Golden Corral - saddled up?) and made the drive to Lindbergh Ave. What with the stupid, recent time change it was still early, about 5:15 PM when we got there, but already dark. 

The Place:

This place is large and usually crowded. This night was no exception. Available parking was sporadic and limited, very, very busy.

We went in and stood in line behind a large group for several minutes before they told us they weren’t actually in line, they were still waiting for more people. So we went around, ordered our drinks, Tea, Diet Pepsi and something called ‘Pepsi Max’*, and paid $42.87 for the three buffets. There were actually two lines, each one about ten people deep, and at the end of the lines were poles with entry ropes keeping us from going into the hectic dining area. At the end of our line was a husky, purple-shirted lady with a 2-way radio. She called in on it what was needed, party of three or eight, etc. and eventually got a call back. She would then open up the rope and send the appropriate matching party through.

It reminded me of those Sci-Fi movies where the earth is being evacuated and the scared and tense families lean into the ropes waiting for their names to be called for the last escape pod out. One wrong move and you’ll end up with a stampede.

Also on hand was an off-duty deputy, just standing by. Yeah it was that busy, like an arena event.

It actually didn’t take very long. The floor crew seemed adept at turning over tables quickly. We were shuffled to a four-seater in the back. I opted for the side that looked toward the buffet line, which had the disadvantage of sitting partially in the aisle. Angel and Adam sat opposite. They got a punier view but more legroom without the risk of being tripped over. We didn’t sit, we just put down our tray and credentials and dived into the mass of trough grazers.

The Food:

I was not as hungry as Angel. I’d had a pulled pork sandwich and some cheese crackers for a rather late lunch. But that’s one of the nice things about a buffet, you can eat a little or a lot, same price. I decided to small-sample a wide variety. My first round I sampled, about a tablespoon each, meat loaf, fried shrimp, mashed potatoes, 1 sesame chicken chunk, three small strips of Bourbon St. Chicken, macaroni, linguine with scampi sauce, a fist-sized yeast roll, a cheese and garlic biscuit, a teaspoon of stuffing, and lo and behold, Italian Sausage and sauerkraut. Yes fans, finally some sauerkraut!

I had to struggle with the linguine, knowing almost immediately that I was going to have an issue with it. Pasta is simple, but fickle. It doesn’t sit very long very well. I could tell from the exercise of trying to fork out only a small portion that this batch was sticky, rubbery and had been left out too long. I headed back to the table with noodles dangling from my plate.

Angel and Adam were already digging in. Angel had waited in line for a medium steak. It was apparently worth the wait, she shared a piece with Adam. He agreed that it was really good. Her plate also contained more vegetables than mine. I don’t know why.

I tested the linguine, just as I had suspected, it was cold and reverting back to its natural, hard, rubbery state. That was too bad since I hadn’t been able to separate it much and it covered a significant portion of my plate. I piled it aside as best I could. The sesame chicken was sweet, but had a bit more heat than I was ready for. Okay, but only in small amounts. The Bourbon St. chicken was a hit. It had a subtle, smoky flavor and was charred on the edges, not too dry. The mashed potatoes were fine, but not very lumpy, the stuffing was pretty good, the shrimp was shrimp, the meat loaf was fine at first. The biscuit was too hard, the roll too soft.

“My mom loves the rolls here.” Angel said. I did not reply since I’ve never had a lot of success saying anything about her mom. She always takes it wrong.  In this case I would have, could have, said something about her mom being a truly wonderful lady, but not necessarily a reliable source of information as to what constitutes good food. I couldn’t think of a way to say that without it sounding like criticism. So I said nothing. I may have made a facial expression or a grunting noise, but not voluntarily. I got the harsh glare anyhow.

 The meatloaf was, as I said, good at first. When I got down to the bottom of it, I ran into a wall. A wall of burnt meat. Since I had plenty more to eat I just pushed the charred loaf into the growing landfill along with the pasta.

The kraut was fine, just like mom used to open a can and boil. They seemed to know the trick of drizzling a little sugar on it as well.

Adam and Angel finished quickly and made their second round. I poked through the little I had left and took notice of another family. Mom, dad, teenage daughter, and two younger girls, grade-school age. There was nothing unusual or freakish about the family itself, it was their food that grabbed my attention. The teen was pulling pink strands from a full stick of cotton candy. I shuddered at the thought of that much sugar.

I didn’t know how long they’d been there, how many nutritious rounds there may have been, but all I saw on the table were desserts. The little girls were sucking on chocolate ice cream cones, the dad was sitting behind a plated tart of some kind. Mom returned to the table with a plate full of strawberries, all chocolate covered from the Corral's much ballyhooed 'Chocolate Wonderfall' fountain. She passed those around to her flock of princesses. Dad seemed amused, I suppose since the dentist’s bill hadn’t arrived yet.

Over the course of the next half hour the girls had even more ice cream, more strawberries and a second round of cotton candy. Angel told me to stop judging them. Too late.

My first plate was about half full of tried and rejected samples, I really hadn’t eaten all that much. My second round consisted only of a small baked potato with toppings, and some more bourbon street chicken. Adam had picked up some of the sesame chicken, tasted it, thought about it and said “I think they used orange zest.” Which shocked Angel because she thought he'd said “I think it’s possessed.” After we finally straightened her out we settled into dessert choices. After watching the sugared up family I knew I didn’t want something that severe. Angel told me again to stop staring at them. The teen girl was picking her teeth with one of the strawberry’s skewers. How can you not watch that?

Between us we had brownies, fudge (not my choice) and primarily, for me, banana pudding. I had to mine for the pudding, there was so much whipped cream on it that I had to tunnel under it to get to the pudding part. I don’t care for whipped cream on food, though I hear, just hear mind you, that it’s not so bad on strippers.

The fudge was decent, but way too rich. The brownies, not bad at all.

Summary:

          Sure, there were things that weren’t perfect, or even particularly well made. Don’t get the wrong idea though. The major selling point of a good buffet is that you can create your own meal. If tonight’s meatloaf wasn’t ideal, then just go for something else. If you get a bad meal at Golden Corral it’s ultimately your own fault. There’s plenty there to choose from, as big a variety as you’ll find anywhere on the planet. Angel couldn’t say enough about the steak, Adam loves the place in general, and I’ve never left hungry. On this night I deliberately sampled more than I was actually desired due to my ongoing effort to better inform you, the fans.  I strongly recommend that you sample first, then go in for the kill. Also be certain to overeat. It’s a buffet, there’s no reward or discount for being gastronomically frugal.  It is also possible to construct a balanced, nutritional meal that does not exceed whatever diet plan you may subscribe to. Yes, you theoretically can have a balanced meal there, not that there is any actual evidence that this has ever been attempted.

Strongly recommended!

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*Pepsi Max. A Pepsi product that contains no sugar but contains twice the caffeine of regular Pepsi. When you just want a sodium-fueled, pulse-blasting buzz, but not the calories.

Golden Corral Buffet & Grill

6110 S Lindbergh Blvd, St Louis

Website

Golden Corral originated in the early 1970’s by a couple of guys that gave up trying to buy into other franchise restaurants. They started in North Carolina and expanded, slowly at first, to a couple hundred in the first few years. They then added nearly two hundred more by buying up the suffering 'Sirloin Stockade' chain in the early 80’s. There are now nearly five hundred Golden Corrals, spread across forty states.

In the late 80’s through early 90’s when the U.S. bought into the myth that red meat was a bad thing, the business suffered and GC added salad bars. That way people could pretend they were going there to eat healthy. Most of the original salad bar items are still there, since to date, no one has ever actually served themselves a salad at a Golden Corral. (un-researched assumption). There are unconfirmed rumors that the salad bar produce is not even real, but is instead Disney-like animatronics, merely projected images of actual produce.

The Place:

On Lindbergh, east/south of Highway 21 (Tesson Ferry). It was quite a chore to get there. We went on Sunday evening, Adam’s work scheduled allowed for an evening meal, finally. It had snowed a couple of inches overnight, I had spent most of the day shoveling off our 400 foot paved, curved and uphill driveway. Klondike road had been cleared though so we assumed other roads had been as well.

The wind was kicking up, the temperature was dropping, it was around fourteen degrees when we left the house, the wind gusts were topping twenty mph. At that temperature even a slight breeze can become a deadly weapon.

Angel had doubted my driveway clearing as it appeared to have just turned the driveway into an Olympics-sanctioned luge track. The snow was cleared, but the underlying thin slush coat had turned into a hardened, shiny and slick, refreeze.

We climbed into Angel’s Trailblazer, (which I had cleared and warmed up earlier because I’m a great husband) she twisted the knob to 4WD and we made it up and out without a slip. (I was more worried about the return trip, downhill)

The rest of the roads were not in as good of shape as Klondike. In fact they got worse the closer we got to the city. It appeared that in order to save precious highway dollars some of the crews were waiting for the snow to completely stop falling before seriously attacking the roads in their care. There was refreeze and slush patches in most of the inner lanes, and quite often on the primary lane. Passing was infrequent and a bit scary. We never exceeded fifty mph. Inside the first suburb the roads had been barely treated at all. The run on Lindbergh was like a scene from upstate New York, snow-covered, drifting, thick, gusting white-outs. Angel likened it mockingly as ‘Ice Road Trucker’* stuff. (She drives on these excursions since I’ve totaled more vehicles (one) than she has.)

The trip should normally take about thirty five minutes, on this trip it took closer to an hour.

The place was surprisingly, nearly packed. The parking lot was almost full and the tables we could see from the outside appeared to be as well.

We walked in, stepped into a short line, grabbed a tray and shouted out our drink order, tea, tea and Pepsi. They served the drinks in plastic tumblers and we slid up to the cash register and paid up the fixed price. We were told we could sit anywhere we wanted, there wasn’t a lot of choice as all the tables within arm’s reach of the serving lines were all taken.

We set our tray down on a table in the back forty and headed for the lines.

It’s a buffet. And a pretty good one at that.

The Food:

GC made its name by offering fresh meat, steaks, etc. rather than the frozen/shipped steaks in other steakhouse buffet chains. On this night they were cooking fine steaks to order as well as fresh ham and brisket. I put on my buffet hat, which is not a hat, but really only a way of thinking, and grabbed a small plate and loaded it up with about a tablespoon full of a dozen or so choice items. No, I didn’t stop at the salad bar, the staff was busy, clearing the cobwebs off of it.

There was a section for foreign food, Chinese and Mexican mostly. I grabbed up some ‘Brandy Chicken, a couple of shrimp, and some pepper steak. At the meat island I skipped the chicken and dipped up some pot roast. I added white beans, macaroni and meat loaf, then found ‘fish and chips’ and grabbed a couple of nuggets. At the bakery section there were about a dozen possibilities. I grabbed a fat, flaky looking biscuit as well as a condiment packet containing about a quart of margarine. There was also another type of shrimp, pretty much just breaded and fried. A couple of those and round one was ready to eat.

I was first back at the table, Adam showed up with a roll the size of a bowling ball as well as some of the brisket. He really liked the glaze. Angel had some fried chicken as well as potatoes, some of the fish, and some veggies. My biscuit was a huge disappointment. Though it looked fresh and flaky, it was actually as hard as a rock. I tried cutting it open with my steak-like knife, it merely shattered, even adding some margarine didn’t soften it up. I sat it aside on a napkin of shame.

Everything else was quite good indeed. Unlike at Ryan’s where it was hit or miss, the food here, entrees as well as sides were well prepared and quite tasty.

Round two, I decided on more of the same, with a couple of differences. I passed up on the granite biscuits and chose one a cheesy biscuit instead, much better. I skipped over the Chinese and got more pot roast, meatloaf, white beans, fish and added a small dollop of mashed potatoes with brown gravy.

Angel opted for a steak and a small baked potato, then polluted her plate with cauliflower and boiled cabbage. She had apparently forgotten that the great depression was over and we don’t have to eat that disgusting stuff anymore. She did let me try her steak, it was very, very good. Ryan’s offered nothing near this quality.

Adam’s second round included ham, which looked kind of dry, but he insisted it was not.

Dessert was only an option for Angel and I, Adam skipped it since he’s dating. ( I assume that’s the reason) Angel sampled the chocolate-chocolate-chocolate cake and some peach cobbler, I had a small slice of apple pie and some banana pudding, with sprinkles. By sprinkles I mean candy corn. Angel finds this completely disgusting, which I admit is the real reason I add candy corn to banana pudding.

Summary:

The service was not much to speak of. Our server only came around for drink refills once, plate-clearing was satisfactory but not complete. The food, except for those biscuits was all very good. Much higher quality than at Ryan’s.

The place was quite messy though. The well-worn floor was littered with discarded food items, fries, beans, etc. This I attributed to one enormous fault of the eatery; they allow children.

I don’t mind the teenagers so much, they’re pouty and sulky and arrogant, but not very loud. It’s the smaller ones, the sticky, screaming, crying, food-tossing tykes that really get my goat. And of course when the tykes scream, everything stops and mommy has to make a massive fuss about it. Geez lady, the kids SAW the desserts, they SAW the ice cream machine, but you think they’re going to settle for chicken nuggets, fries and beans? HAH! They can SEE what they want and they KNOW you’re going to let them have it, so why not just eliminate the noise and the mess and let them have their ice cream cone! You want them to eat nutritious food? Then don’t give them such obvious options! Feed them at home!

The price was reasonable, forty two dollars and change, not bad at all considering we could pick and choose between scores of items, and have as much of each as we wanted.

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*'Ice Road Truckers' (IRT) is a series on one of those Discovery/Learning channels. It’s about truckers, mostly fat and out of shape, driving truckloads of oil drilling supplies across the frozen tundra and even the frozen lakes and sea in the really, really far north areas of Alaska and Canada. They drive hundreds of miles in desolate wasteland, often alone and often with poor visibility. There is no place on the entire road that is not either made of ice or snow covered. The roads are not so much constructed as they are carved out of the ice and snow by sadists. They go over impossible mountains and are too narrow and poorly marked. For all this effort and terror, the hapless drivers make less money per year than I do.

THAT kids, is why you should stay in school!